Addiction
by Abinikai
Summary: Draco's addiction to cigarettes is different from his addiction to Harry in only one way. WARNING: SLASH. HPDM


**Title**: Addiction  
**Pairings**: Harry/Draco. WARNING: SLASH AHEAD. If you flame me, I'll hurt you. I gave you a fair warning.  
**Disclaimer**: Nope, it's not mine, sadly enough. Maybe if I owned Harry Potter I might have a few dollars in my pocket, but I'm most definitely broke.  
**Author Note and Dedication**:. My mom's trying to quit cigarettes, and that's where I got the idea. She's having a tough time, and I hope she succeeds. Oh, and just because it's what I'm addicted to and I never mentioned it in the fic (which I believe is a near sin), I say that Sirius Black is a sexy beast who was made for Remus Lupin. And man is he a sexy beast! Man, I wish I had my on Sirius...sigh Then again, if I did, I'd probably give him to Remus, so it's okay.  
  
(Chibi-Sirius appears) "Get on with the story, already! I mean, if it's not going to have me or Remy-baby in it anywhere, you may as well finish it!"  
(Chibi-Remus appears) "Now Sirius, that's nothing to say to the author. Think of what she could do to you. And anyways, I believe it is a very good story."  
(Chibi-Sirius sticks out his tongue) "Suck up."  
(Chibi-Remus kisses Chibi-Sirius) I may be, but you have to admit I have a point. I mean, look at your hair."  
(Chibi Sirius screams) "My beautiful hair! Look at it! It's pink! Ahhhhhhh!" (Chibi Sirius withers and almost dies, but not quite because the all-powerful Author still feels that he and Chibi-Remus are meant to be together)

* * *

Draco was addicted to smoking. Not the "I've had it once and I loved it," but the "I've had it for too long and I really want to stop," kind of smoking.  
  
It had been a year since they were released from Hogwarts, and Draco was no closer to quitting that rolled up piece of parchment and nicotine then he was four years ago when he first tried to quit. His father had introduced him to smoking at a young age, giving Draco his first cigarette when the boy was just barely four. His father had laughed and congratulated Draco while the blonde-haired boy was throwing up in the bathroom.  
  
There was only one thing Draco could relate to smoking, and that was Harry Potter.  
  
Draco had had his first kiss from Harry Potter in the last month of the sixth year. Just like when he had begun smoking, he was disgusted with himself, and had wanted to wash his mouth out with soap and beg forgiveness from God--if the damn bastard up there would listen, that is.  
  
He and Harry had been paired up for a potions lesson and gotten detention together, and somehow, during detention, they had kissed. Draco wanted to believe that Harry had instigated it, but he knew that he had. Draco had been talking about Harry's non-existent love life. Then the question came up about Harry's virginity. That was when Draco had found that Harry had never even been kissed, let alone fucked. Draco fixed that momentarily, though he still didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing. His lips were warm and wet and tasted of chocolate and strawberries. Kinky, Draco had thought.  
  
But then, like with his first cigarette, he wondered what would happen if he had another. He wondered if he would be so disgusted with himself, or if he might actually enjoy himself that time. Like with seeing his father smoke every day and wondering what it would be like to take another puff, he soon saw Harry snogging girls (though never guys) in the hallway. He always kicked himself mentally when he caught himself daydreaming what it would be like to kiss those lips again--soon he couldn't even remember how they tasted.  
  
That lasted up until the very last day. On the train ride home, Draco couldn't resist cornering Harry in a deserted compartment, even though that compartment had been a bugger to find.  
  
"One more," he had said.  
  
"One more what?" questioned Harry, though the dark-haired boy knew very what Draco had meant. Draco took the kiss without another word and left without even glancing back. That time he tasted like Lemon Sherbets and some unknown substance--probably another girl. Like with cigarettes, Draco had had to try one more, and like with cigarettes, that second one was all it took to become addicted. That was when Draco began calling "Potter" Harry, even in public.  
  
Then, like with cigarettes, summer was hell. He couldn't see, talk to, or kiss Harry all summer. For with cigarettes, his father had hidden all the packs in the house when he found out that Draco had taken one without his permission. And Harry was avoiding Draco to the maximum. Letters Draco would send, flowers, chocolate, were all sent back with the same note. Please do not try and contact me. I hate you. At least cigarettes didn't have the mind to hate him.  
  
Draco had found a poor, homemade substitute that passed as a cigarette when he was most desperate. He wasn't sure what he had put in it, but when made right, it would give him that slight buzz and sometimes a resemblance of the taste of a cigarette. Likewise, a few years later, he found a whore house in which to sate his Harry-driven need, almost two months into the summer after that kiss, though the people were never the same as that person. Most of them didn't even have a taste.  
  
Then school started up again. Just seeing Harry Potter drove him crazy, and within the first week, Draco had cornered Harry countless times, begging for one kiss. Harry never gave it to him. The muggle store in town sold cigarettes, though they wouldn't sell them to a minor, now matter how hard that minor begged and pleaded, to the point of tears.  
  
Harry took to staying closer to his friends. The muggles took to banning him from the convenience store. Damn muggles.  
  
Then one blessed night, Draco was wandering the streets of the town below his mansion in search of discarded cigarette butts, hoping that some of them would still be a little worthwhile. One tall, dark, lanky kid had found him and showed him a full pack of Camel back cigarettes. Draco paid five dollars for that heavenly pack, and half the cigarettes were broken.  
  
Draco had found Harry alone in the bathroom one evening. He had gotten on his knees and explained his predicament, and Harry had scowled. "Get up, you lowly bastard. If you promise to leave me alone, I'll give you one--one- -quick kiss. I hate to see dirt dig itself deeper." The kiss had indeed been quick, barely even long enough to be considered a peck, but it was heaven for Draco. And it had tasted of cinnamon.  
  
Draco had found his solution--both in cigarettes and in Harry. He would meet the tall, dark and lanky kid in the streets once or twice a week. He met Harry once or twice a week in the bathroom. Once in a while Draco would be lucky and there would be a little (though not much) more substance to the kiss, and in the case of the cigarettes, there would be more whole ones then broken.  
  
Draco started to pay more money for better cigarettes, and he started paying sums of money and other expensive gifts to Harry to get better kisses. One kiss even tasted like chocolate and strawberries again.  
  
After about nine years of smoking, when he was fourteen, Draco realized the bad effects that smoking was having on him. He would go through three packs a day sometimes, and he would go through withdrawals if he went more than five hours without a smoke. He would even wake up a few hours into sleep just to pull out a smoke in his bed and drift off to sleep once it was burnt down to embers. Draco realized that he would tire after only a few seconds of running, and that he was losing interest in the things he loved to do. He had read the muggle articles on what it did to a person's health, and though Draco was sure that he could find a spell to cure him of those ailments, he was still disgusted that his body could look and feel so horrible.  
  
The situation with Harry had been much more abrupt--and much more drastic. And it hadn't been his choice.  
  
Draco started drifting off in class, and his grades began to drop--even in potions. He would find himself staring at Harry's lips at the most inopportune times, at which point Harry would sneer at him and walk away. He snapped at people for inconsequential things, and he lost his temper more then once almost every day. His lackies and friends alike began to drift away, realizing that a major change had come over Draco, though very few people knew exactly what was ailing him. Draco became less responsive and his retorts and remarks lost their sting. He would cry at night and mope in the day. Only Harry truly knew what was going on, and he didn't really give a damn.  
  
Then the school year ended. Draco thought about following Harry where ever the boy went, just to get those precious seconds touching his heavenly lips, but Harry quickly squashed this idea in the bathroom one day.  
  
"This is your last."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I admit, I enjoy having this kind of control over you a little, but it has to stop. I don't want you following me to be an Auror just because you want a kiss. I don't even want to kiss you in the first place. But anyways, this one's free. Because it's your last. I don't want you asking for another." When the kiss ended, Harry said, "I must admit, I almost enjoyed my first kiss. And I almost--almost--regret doing this to you. But that last kiss was nice. I'll admit that to you." He left without another word, just like Draco had left without another word on the train, though that had been a different circumstance.  
  
That kiss had also tasted of chocolate, and it had had a lot of substance to it. Draco even thought that he felt Harry's tongue flick across his lips before the kiss ended. Harry had left Draco in a heap of tears on the bathroom floor. Luckily that had been the last day of school, or Draco might have gone crazy.  
  
He had decided, once and for all, to quit smoking the following month. In memory of Harry, he told himself, though he knew it was for another reason. He knew that it was essential, required that he quit smoking because if he could quit smoking, then he could quit Harry, for Harry was an addiction just as bad, if not worse than smoking.  
  
It had taken three days for Draco to grab another pack of cigarettes, and a month to find Harry. Harry hadn't given him a kiss though--he hadn't even given Draco more then a glance. At least he could get a cigarette; he couldn't get a Harry.  
  
There was only one difference between Draco's addiction with Harry and his addiction with cigarettes. The addiction for cigarettes was stoppable. A week after finding Harry, an anonymous letter had been sent to him with a cure for the addiction to smoking. Two hours later, Draco threw away his last box of cigarettes--the last box he would ever need. The addiction for Harry, however, was not stoppable. There was no charm to cure a broken heart.

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A/N: Yes, I know. Harry was extremely OOC. As was Draco. Suck it up and deal with it. And please review to let me know what you think. Please? I want to know if you want a sequel. 


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